#I'm inconsistent as fuck

[nouverx]

"I want to eat you" is their love language and you can't change my mind

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin alastor #hazbin rosie #radiorose #alastor #my art #autodesk sketchbook #they are so freaky they must have so many fucked up conversations like that I just know it #it's their weird way of “flirting” yk what I mean #I headcanon that Alastor HATES burgers and fast food in general ik it's very specific #my artstyle is so inconsistent ahah I'm experimenting don't mind me

[bluesfreakingart]

I immediately go and throw myself into the nearest gotham sewer to wrestle Killer Croc WITH MY BARE HANDS bc THE ENERGY I PUT INTO THIS AUGHGHG

#jervis tetch #the mad hatter #btas mad hatter #jonathan crane #the scarecrow #btas scarecrow #batman the animated series #Inconsistencies? do I see them? yes. Do I pretend they do not exist? also yes. #I'm going to fucking explode #I've been looking at this TOO LONG #regardless of my crazed state I hope ya'll enjoy

[boytoyhalo]

Can we have more of the selkie au please?

are there fantasy books in the lighthouse? Did they see seal!Pac after the coat incident? Is Fit hunting an imaginary poachers on the island?

you absolutely can!!

They don't see Pac - human or seal - for a few days after the incident. During those few days, Fit very much notices the absence of his usual evening journaling buddy, and he's very much not happy about it. He scours the island in his free time looking for traces of whatever poacher is squatting there, but he can't find anything. He also notices Pac's absence, and by the 3rd day he's starting to come to an uncomfortable conclusion: the only logical explanation he can think of for his strange behavior, and the lack or evidence for any other people on the island, is that Pac must be the poacher he's looking for. He doesn't want to believe it, because Pac is so nice and he's always seemed to really like the seals (maybe even more so than him or Ramon) when they've been around them together, but he just doesn't know what else it could possibly be. Then right as he's resigned himself to confronting him about it, and begun to prepare for the ordeal of filing a report against his friend, he finds his furry friend waiting for him on it's usual rocks like nothing happened.

Fit spends a good few minutes just gaping at it, completely frozen - the fucking thing has the gall to look confused, tilting it's head at him like his son wasn't sobbing over it's severed skin just a few days ago. Even after the initial shock passes and he manages to drag himself out of his stupor and onto his own rock, he can't find any words to speak or to write; he just keeps staring at it in complete puzzlement. It stares back at him, it's gaze flicking curiously to the blank page in front of him every so often almost. After what feels like an eternity it huffs and flops over on it's side, seemingly having decided that it would rather nap than continue their stare-off. Fit begins his journal entry in uneasy silence, trying his best to let the scratching of the pencil on the page distract him from the anomaly next to him. Unfortunately, said anomaly doesn't tolerate the cold shoulder for long before snorting offendedly at him.

"What?" Fit raises an eyebrow at it. There's a beat before it snorts again, slapping it's front flippers loudly against the wet rocks. "You- oh, what, you want me to talk to you? Is that it?" It grunts softly. Fit blinks, his mouth opening and closing around words that don't come. "I mean I- I don't really uh. I mean, I'm just kinda speechless right now." And ok, that's an understatement - he feels completely disoriented, his entire world having been flipped on its head. This seal was dead, it had to have been, that was the only possible explanation for the way everything had lined up. Except apparently it wasn't, because the seal was alive and it was looking straight into his eyes with that disturbingly human intelligence shining through its own. As the gears in his head start turning, trying valiantly to come up with something to say, some pieces start to fall into place.

The pelt, Pac's freak-out and subsequent disappearance, the seal acting like someone's lost pet and not a wild predator, Pac having no traceable presence on the island but appearing every day, both of them missing a limb - little dots swimming around in his head, moving too quickly for him to connect, forming a fragment of something that Fit doesn't think he could handle knowing in full. He nearly slips and breaks his neck in his mad scramble off of his perch, startling the seal - or whatever this thing was. He ignores it's concerned cry and backs away slowly, a dizzying dread creeping slowly over him as his attempts to think of any logical explanation for the ever-growing pile of mysteries come up completely empty.

Various half-formed theories run through his mind as he speeds through the short walk back to the cabin: Was the seal Pac's pet? Was it some robotic creation of his? Did he kill it and do some fucked up death magic on it? Was he the seal? Was he a shape shifter, or- or some kind of hypnotist? Had the whole thing just been an illusion? A dream? Was Fit finally going insane?

Yeah, that's gotta be it he thought as he made his way through the door, being sure to close it quietly so as to not wake Ramon. I've finally fucking lost it. There was no way Pac was - whatever it was that Fit's psyche was convinced he was. That seal was a normal, if weirdly friendly seal, and there was a completely rational explanation for everything that Fit was just too dumb to catch onto. Pac was probably just freaked out by the implication of the seal's death, and maybe the pelt had just been an incredibly convincing fake. Yeah, that was it, definitely. Fit pointedly ignored the voices in his head that screamed all of the ways that that didn't make any sense as he stumbled his way through his nightly routine and into bed - it made enough sense that he was fine letting it be not his problem anymore. He was much more interested in getting a good night's sleep than in spiraling into a frenzy over something that probably didn't matter in the slightest

.....Or not. Apparently, whatever part of his brain he didn't have control over greatly overpowered the part that was sane and rational, combined with all of the exhaustion in his body. He sighed as he begrudgingly opened his eyes, staring blankly at the shadows that flickered across his wooden ceiling. He could already tell this was gonna give him hell. He had never been someone who could take it easy, not even before the sounds of gunfire and explosions and the heavy stench of blood-soaked dirt had made themselves a permanent part of his world. This certainly wasn't the first time since that he had questioned his perception of reality; in fact, he was quite familiar with being disconnected from it, the way that it could bend around the most damaged parts of him and twist his mind back into a shape that no longer fit in the present. He sometimes heard gunshots when there was no one to fire them, screaming in his ear while he slept at night - It wasn't far-fetched at all to write this off as the conspiratorial delusions of a soldier taken off the battlefield too late. But, something about it just kept nagging at him, urging him to look deeper even if he couldn't handle it. Finally, after what had to be hours of tossing and turning in his sheets, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

The spiral only pulled at him harder the next morning, as he made his early morning rounds and reports, harder still as he made his way back to the house and made breakfast. By the time he woke up Ramon he was wishing he still had hair on his head just so he could pull it out. His boy, of course, noticed his mood immediately.

"...What? What is it?" Fit asked as the kid stared at him flatly over his scrambled eggs and toast.

"Something is bothering you." Ramon pointed his fork at him. "Tell me." Fit sighed; that was his son, blunt as ever. He briefly contemplated spinning a lie to ease his mind, but wrote it off as soon as he remembered that his baby boy was a genius that, unfortunately, knew him far too well.

"It's nothing, Ramon, don't worry about it. Eat your eggs." Ramon dropped his fork loudly onto the table, not breaking eye contact. He looked unimpressed.

"Fit." There was silence as they stared at each other from across the table, both plates forgotten as they engaged in some sort of psychological battle that Fit felt he had a distinct disadvantage in somehow. After a long few minutes he turned his gaze away with a resigned grunt, knowing from an abundance of experience that there was no use in resisting Ramon's questioning - The kid was determined, and he had a way of getting things out of Fit that he sometimes didn't even want to admit to himself. He swallows a mouthful of his suddenly very bland tasting eggs, trying to think of how to start.

"You wouldn't happen to have any books that talk about seals, would you?" Is what he eventually settles on. Ramon blink at him in confusion, seemingly thrown off by the turn of the conversation. "It's- well, it might be nothing. It's probably nothing, But." He takes a deep breath, admitting to weakness is a difficult task that Fit has always had to push himself greatly to accomplish; he's been trying to work through it for his young boy's sake. "There's just been some stuff happening around here that I can't figure out and that's kinda the only place I can think to start looking, you know what I mean? It's nothing you need to worry about though, I promise." Ramon fiddles with the frayed bauble of his favorite red hat as he hums, thinking.

"I think a couple of the animal encyclopedias that you got me mention them, but nothing too detailed. What's been happening with the seals?" Fit takes another nauseating bite to buy himself time to consider his answer.

"I've just... been thinking about the fur we found," he says carefully, praying that It won't be a sensitive topic. Thankfully, Ramon doesn't seem fazed, only raising his eyebrows a bit as he waits for his father to continue. "I was sure it was from one of those ones that like to hang around here, and we were only seeing five of them for the past few days so I thought - someone must have hunted it, you know? But there's been no one here but us and Richas' parents, and then last night the seal that was missing showed back up and." He cuts off his ramble as he notices the strange look Ramon is giving him. "What? Do you think I'm going crazy or something?"

"Pac said he gave the seal it's skin back, remember?" He says plainly, like it makes complete sense. Fit balks at him, mouth open in disbelief. Ramon had.... Ramon believed that? But he was so smart for a kid his age, he had even called Fit out for pretending it wasn't dead! Had he just.... decided to believe Pac? Was this his way of coping?

"You, uh. What?" He responds eloquently. Ramon looks at him like he's grown a second head, and ok, now Fit is definitely going crazy. Since when does his little boy genius believe that one can simply give a dead animal it's skin back and bring it back to life?

"He gave it back." He draws out every word, as if he's the adult explaining a simple concept to a child. "The seal is fine. Richarlyson said it took Pac on adventures with it to thank him." He sniffs petulantly. "Kinda think he should have invited me, but whatever. It's all ok, see! Just like you said." Fit has no idea what to say, completely lost. This conversation had done nothing but add another layer of headache to the already impressive thorn in his side. He nods slowly, deciding to just let it go for the sake of the little sanity he has left.

"Right, ok. That makes sense, I guess." As far as he's concerned, if Ramon is happy there's no issue. That's what he tells himself at least, and to his credit it is mostly true. Ramon knows better though, and he levels Fit with a look that tells him as much. After a moment he returns his attention to his plate, looking bored with the topic of conversation.

"Richas said Pac is gonna be back to see you today. I'm gonna ask him all about it, you can listen if you want to." Fit startles a bit. Pac was coming back? "And if that doesn't answer your questions, maybe you should try checking all those old journals we found to see if they say anything useful?" Right, the archived journals from previous lighthouse attendants - Fit had completely forgotten about them, locked away as mementos in a storage room at the bottom of the lighthouse itself. He hadn't spared them a thought since he and Ramon had been shown them on their first day on the island. That was as good a place to look as any, he supposed. He makes a mental note to do so later tonight, when he's done with his work for the day.

"Yeah that's a good idea actually, thank you Ramon. You're damn smart, you know that?" Ramon nods easily, and Fit cracks a smile for the first time since his worldview had been upturned the night before. "Anyway, you say Pac is coming back today?" He tries not to sound too eager, though he doesn't think he does very well - he's missed his friend, what could he say? The manual labor was much more grueling without company, he had realized. It had been hard doing it alone again after having gotten used to Pac (and on semi-frequent occasion, Mike's) company over the past few months. Even when he had suspected the other man of being the dreaded poacher, a concept he had now completely written off as too out of character to be reliable, he had been more sad about the possibility of having to turn him in than about the actual poaching - although he definitely had been sad about that too. Ramon looks like he's stifling a laugh.

"That's what Richarlyson said. He said his other parents were making him do it today." Fit doesn't have time to question why Pac apparently needed someone to make him come back after his "adventure" before Ramon is getting up from the table with an exclamation of "done!" and running out to the beach, leaving his dirty dishes to Fit and ignoring as he calls after him, of course.

He finishes cleaning up and gets outside to join him just in time to see Richarlyson running eagerly up to the other boy, Pac following behind him at a much more casual pace. He can't help frombreaking into another smile as he draws closer, black waves dripping wet (as always) and a familiar grin lighting up his face.

"Oi!" He calls out across the remaining distance. Pac wastes no time in calling back to him, speeding up his walk a bit as Richarlyson reaches his target and tackles him into a hug. Fit decides to leave them to their own devices for the moment, setting his own pace towards his approaching friend and meeting him in the middle. "Where have you been?" Pac's smile turns sheepish, and Fit's eyes flick to the way his teeth nervously pull at his lip for a moment before he speaks.

"I was feeling really sick, I think I must have caught something from touching that pelt! I was throwing up and having a- a fever, you know how it is," He looks to Fit almost bashfully, like he's fully aware Fit isn't buying it. Fit, for all he's been agonizing over the possibility of Pac being.... something, suddenly finds that he doesn't really care. The seal is alive, Richarlyson is safe - whatever Pac was doing is his business. He's just happy to have some adult company again. Before he can say as much, not that he would have, Ramon comes running up from behind him, stopping short in front of Pac with elation tangible in his demeanor.

"PAC! Richas says you went on an adventure with the seal who's skin we found, what was it like? TELL ME!" Pac laughs, startled, and crouches down to meet the boy's eyes, one hand coming up to ruffle his hair through his hat.

"Yeah, it was amazing! I gave the seal his fur back and he was like 'oh wow thank you so much! come swim with me!' And he took me to his home in the kelp forest and introduced me to all his fish friends! We even saw some- ah, I forget how you say it in English - The big guys with the claws... LOBSTERS! yeah, we saw some lobsters! And they were fighting each other with SWORDS! Oh it was so cool Ramon, I wish you could have seen it. Hey, maybe I can ask him to take you next time!" Ramon's giggles stop abruptly as he gasps in excitement, eyes lighting up as he begins pleading with Pac to do so. Fit shakes his head fondly.

There's a soft look in Pac's eyes as he speaks animatedly to Ramon, recounting his epic underwater adventures with the dramatic flair of a man who's very used to entertaining children. And yeah, Fit decides as brown eyes stray momentarily to share an amused look with him, none of it matters. He'll look at those journals later to see if there's any mention of seal pelts or strange men appearing out of nowhere, but in the meantime he couldn't care less - he has his work buddy back, his son is happy, the weather is nice and no seals have been harmed.

Maybe he can take it easy, just this once. For now.

#selkie au #fitpac #god dammit fuck this took so long #not editing this shit fuck that you'll take my inconsistent tenses and you'll LIKE IT #asks #also for the record i am probably going to turn this into a multi-chapter fic I just have to. figurre out how to do that lollll #feel free to keep sending asks i'm having so much fun

[carionto]

Wisdom is to seek the experienced

Your typical dimly lit bar, closing hours. Few folk still remain, fewer still conscious. The door chimes to a sprightly young man, though his eyes echo decades of witnessing the grim reality. He orders a beer, sits down next to a passed out man in his late 50s, hand still gripping his last shot glass.

The young man prods the old guy awake.

"Tell me, what do you know about Old Man Henderson?"

"What? That's an urban myth. A fairy tale. Ain't no such person ever existed. Scram, kid."

"We believe the contrary. Correction. We don't believe anything. We know he is real."

"That story is over a thousand years old. Wouldn't be the first time some fools mistake a work of fiction from three apocalypses ago as fact."

"There's more to it than that. We know that you are connected."

At this moment, the young man takes out a small binder of documents and splays it in front of the old guy. Images of excavations of an old town hall. Unidentified dirt and ash samples. A heavily damaged pilot's license. Used cigarette butts.

And a list of names, dates of birth and death, addresses throughout their life, occupations, relatives. Seemingly, no connection. And at the end of the list a Mr J. Drenshaw - the old guy.

"We know you know these people, all of them. Ever since the incident Old Man Henderson was involved in, there has been an unbroken chain of people who studied and learned everything about him and what occurred. And you did your best to erase everything from all records but your own.

Well, the one thing the first to whom this knowledge was passed on to did not do was to cremate their mentor. Instead, they received a burial at sea. Somewhere in the middle of the Pacific from a plane. Forever lost to the world, beneath endless waters and unknown beasts of below.

Or, so it would have remained, had it not been for that little explosion that has doomed our world. Among the debris the OCC cleared was a tiny, damaged microfilm. Unable to restore its contents at the time, it was stored alongside the innumerable relics recovered from the disaster, and promptly forgotten about.

Until my superiors learned of something... odd, and we got to work searching for the loosest of ends. The rest is technical details. In short - you, Mr Drenshaw, have known about the reality of the Old Ones ever since your mentor exposed you to this secretive knowledge you've been safekeeping for the last twenty eight generations. It is no longer your exclusive club.

We need your help understanding what Cthulu is, what it wants, what it can do, and most importantly - what we can do about it."

After a long pause, J. Drenshaw looked at his empty shot glass, at the young man, to the floor, and sighed.

"The reason we kept it from everyone is because you can't do anything about a being like that. That's the point."

"Old Man Henderson did do something about it."

"He was a nutjob. One of a kind."

"Still just human."

"Bah. It wasn't even the full might of anything Greater."

"Even a fraction was still a part of it. We can expand upon that."

"What do I even get out of this? Cuz I'm telling you, it doesn't matter how many Supernovas you throw at Cthulu. The material realm doesn't bother them in the least."

"It doesn't have to be a hostile relationship. Our experiences with the Galactic Coalition, despite a rocky start, show we can communicate with anyone."

"Aliens and Old Ones are not comparable. Can an ant negotiate with the Moon? That's a bullshit idea and you know it."

"We found an individual who contradicts your belief."

At this statement, the young man shows Mr Drenshaw a picture of a young woman, barely out of her teens, but even through a simple image Drenshaw can see in her eyes there is... knowing.

"Okay? That your girlfriend? Good for you."

"That is Cintra Valkeim. Though it proved difficult to ascertain, we believe she made contact with Cthulu."

"Thought you didn't believe in anything. Couldn't get her to confess?"

"We're still working on the specifics, but we do know she died several times. Either by negligence or lack of interest in us 'nothings', her resurrections left marks on the cellular level."

"Nothings..." Drenshaw slowly repeated the word, as if something finally clicked.

"That is how They view us, yes?"

Mr Drenshaw finally looked back at the young man, took a deep breath and simply said:

"Yea...

Fine. I'll talk to this Cintra. Alone. After that I'll decide if it's worth a bother to help you lot."

"Those are agreeable terms. Shall I take you to her now or...?"

"Fuck no. I got a raging headache and I need a nap. Just cuz you got my curiosity don't mean this hangover is suddenly gone. Leave your number, I'll call you in a few days. Gonna do my own investigation."

"Understandable. Here are my contacts."

Mr Drenshaw takes the card, looks at it, and bemusedly puts it away.

"Fuckin' hell. Bunch of jokers you are. Alright, I'll be sure to ring you up, Mr 'John Smith'. Now get outta here, you've ruined my nap long enough.

HEY, BARKEEP! GET ME SOMETHING THAT'LL KNOCK ME RIGHT BACK TO SLEEP!"

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #humanity fuck yeah #carionto #story #cthulu #it's all connected #sorta #i don't know what i'm doing #but i'm doing it #slowly and sporadically #probably inconsistently too #but whatever

[carlyraejepsans]

what is this intrafandom horrible taste you speak of. please, i must know the gossip

a certain videoludic transformative work of chromatic inclinations really gets on my nerves.

#rather. it's mostly mediocre. the way everyone has been falling over themselves acting like it even remotely approaches a shadow of canon UT #has pushed it well into the realm of useless bloodfeud however #sorry but the way nobody sees the flaws in the story and how flat and inconsistent the character writing was #(and how preachy. in a very annoying but more importantly out of place way) #has just. really finalized in my mind the fact that people straight up don't know what makes undertale good #and that is a very disappointing feeling to come to terms with. so I'm grumpy #answered asks #biscia hater moment #the music fucked tho. like. UNBELIEVABLY hard. perhaps that's what sold the illusion

[front-facing-pokemon]

#alt with eyes hidden under the cut #cofagrigus #their eyes are shiny. made of plastic. so they're looking a little bright. apologies for this #so. generally when i have quarrels about the pronunciation of a pokémon's name (since i don't watch anipoké) #where someone else and i pronounce the same pokémon's name differently. which doesn't happen very often‚ since typically i talk about #pokémon mostly entirely in text. because most of the communication about things i like happens in text. and the pokémon games #are not voice acted. so pronunciation of their names is sparse and sometimes limited to anipoké but even they're inconsistent i think #but whenever i have quarrels about the pronunciation of a name. someone else and i pronounce it differently. i go to pokédex 3d pro #on the 3ds. because every time you go to a pokémon's dex entry‚ the pokédex guy says their name out loud #i basically treat this as gospel for how to pronounce pokémon names. i've been proven wrong a lot but i've also been proven right a lot #and this guy. oooohhh this guy. before pokédex 3d pro i pronounced this guy's name as though the F-slur was right in the middle #only recently did i learn that it kinda sounds like “grievous‚” [kʰɐ.fə.'gɻiː.gəs] #at least. that's how the pokédex 3d pro guy says it #whereas i had been pronouncing it [kʰow.'fæg.ɻɪ.gəs]. so. you can see the issue that arises with that pronunciation #a lot of these pronunciations that i have to double-check just live in my head. and it's only when i say them out loud that i realize #how i'm saying them. like how i pronounce “centiskorch” as [sɑ̃.t͡si̠.skoʁʃ] for some fucking reason. my brain sees it and is like #yeah that's? a french word? even though it looks nothing like one #i also tend to pronounce “grumpig” as ['gʀʊm.pɪç] because of the “ig” at the end. i guess. german instinct #of course these are pronunciations i never say out loud but the first time i Have to say this pokémon's name out loud i'll go #oh yeah! it's not pronounced like that. i should probably not say that #and then i do not. just a fun little story about my twisted and fucked up mind. a little peek into my enigmatic brainspace #jesus christ these are some of the longest tags i've ever written. i'm gonna stop

[04tenno]

If you look at Tsuruno's hair real close, he's like a cat that got a patch shaved off at the vet's...

#yakuza #like a dragon #like a dragon gaiden #rgg #ryu ga gotoku #yuki tsuruno #tsuruno yuki #my art #original #sorry for the randomass caption it's just all i could think of while drawing #i'm undecided on Actually Tagging but :) for @jichan's sister and @fletrea :) congrats in winning the bets ! #anyway yoshiyuki yamaguchi GORGEOUS i wanna bite into his cheekbones like an apple. i hope i have captured this #EXTREMELY REWARDING PIECE BTW. the glow from the yellow entirely unintended but i like the effect... tsuruno a saintly figure to me #for some reason though i inked this before doing the other layers of underdrawing so it took Some Effort to get the texture back #as a result it looks. different to my other art in my sketch style (with which i try to emphasize softness more) #but that kinda works for a prickly guy like tsuruno... methinks... #that's my cope. idk how to cope with the highlights being inconsistent with the light source though uhhhhhhh i just fucked that up LMAO

[nyctpostsstuff]

Based on a bit of one of their ending’s text:

We all need more SymDys in our lives. Have some SymDys in the vat.

adfjfdjkfdjkfds. These two have such a strangle hold on my brain. I ain’t gonna lie. ;_; I <3 them your honor.

#i was a teenage exocolonist #iwatec #iwatex #dys/sym #sym/dys #dys exocolonist #sym exocolonist #i'm busy as HEEEECK next month but i still wanna contribute to this fandom x_x #couldn't be fucked to figure out the neck tattoos that show up inconsistently in dys art this timne #sym gets black nail polish as a treat

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

#before i maybe get yelled at: #1) no i do not think ppl are evil for having men dnis no i do not think these are all equal transgressions even #though there is an overlap that should be examined that i think is based in a degree of lesbian separatism + exclusionism #2) yes there are lesbian blogs and people that are cool about genderfucky people. i'm not talking about them #3) this is a stylized vent post about trying to find lesbian content on tumblr that isn't like this. all these dnis/rules are ones i have #encountered. no i do not literally tell these people to change their dnis to suit me. the conversations are symbolic and ideological in #nature. if i find a blog with men dni i generally go somewhere else. it's about emotions. it's about my feelings on that it's not literally #about dming someone demanding they change things. it's not about demanding that You change things or else you're a bad person. #4) it is about the conflicts and hypocrisy and inconsistency of strict and exclusive sexuality labels persisting in gender-diverse spaces #and how it affects me as a lesbian who is a man who is a woman who is fucking whatever else. and yes it is about transphobia too. #5) it's about how lesbians feel the need to exclude men and how i think efforts to do so fail and hurt ppl and are often misguided #tht i think also comes up in like. bi lesbian/mspec lesbian/gaybian discourse. i'm not any of those myself but it seems like there's overla #6) if this post seems whiny and sad and insecure that's because it probably is. i have a right to be all of those things. #7) no i do not think all lesbians are man-hating assholes. i am a lesbian. i love lesbians. i love dykes and most of them are fantastic ppl #i just think the general bullshit of the world leads to this defensive thing that ends up hurting others in our community y'know? #8) i get that my perspective/experience is a bit unusual and many lovely ppl haven't considered it. that's part of why i'm sharing this #nyarla dni #<- sorry man it's too vulnerable. gonna keep this one to the internet-only folks

[myimaginationplain]

after getting back into AT as an adult, I've come to realize that it was also "guilty" of most of the same sins that people religiously hated SU for, and now I'm just mad lol

#note that this isn't me trying to disparage adventure time at all cause I love this show to death #almost if not as much as I love steven universe #but both shows have a lot of the same 'problems'. inconsistent character proportions? check. storyboard driven writing? check. #story beats introduced but only picked back up many episodes later? check. a story about war that's not 'really' about war? check #if anything su's narrative is a lot tighter. at was a very 'fuck u I'm only gonna have an overarching plot when I feel like it' kind of show #which was just as much a strength as it was occasionally a folly mind you #but that exact sort of meandering walking-speed storytelling was what su got an insane amount of heat for. #and it's not at all difficult to see why one show became the internet's punching bag & the other didn't despite having some similar issues #at #adventure time #su #steven universe #fandom bs

[theworldisabrokenbonebutitishome]

The wonderful Guardian Bingo Fest mods put 'lollipops' on my card and my brain went 'ah yes let's be as weird as possible about this'.

Bonus photo for anyone risking pressing on a read more on one of my posts. You're safe from me rambling for once.

Zhao Yunlan has company now! ☺️

#guardianbingofest #twabbbiih made a thing #guardian #shen wei #xiao wei #the fucking lollipop #is apparently a tag? #zhenhun #guardian cdrama #HI YES I'M BACK WITH MY UNHINGED EMBROIDERY FILLS! are you sick of them yet? tough #we're ignoring the hand ending abruptly okay? okay. also how terrible and inconsistent the hair is okay? plaits are evil #someone did one (1) embroidery project with hair and thought she was a genius despite the struggles so did another MORE COMPLICATED ONE #DISCLAIMER: Z1L is possessed with unnatural beauty and no my sewing will never do him justice #also his lip is supposed to look a bit squished cause it does in the screencap #i can keep listing imperfections but i am actually somewhat happy with this go figure #well. mostly happy 😂 #i have a love hate relationship with taking photos of embroidery. i love the embroidery hate trying to make it look as good in photo format #did i rush to take these photos first thing this morning before work instead of eating breakfast calmly and without needing to rush? maybe #i finish a thing and then need to yell about it sorry

[trustworthycinnamon]

Feeding my sick as fuck baby bro some dope milk

#homestuck #bro strider #dave strider #epic galleria #well he's a baby but he's There #he's wearing a robe bc i didn't want to draw his fuckass arms okay i'm weak LEAVE ME ALONE. GO MY SCARAB #anyway listen. ik he's a jackass but i wanna believe that a small part of him Fucking Cared for dave. beyond the fact that it was his duty #still a jackass mind you but. beyond the manipulation; beyond the fact he's a Dirk. at least a fraction of his being had to CARE #he had to fuckin care for him despite all that. the urge to be close to him bc holy shit thats HIS kid. And he needs to survive #it's in the Strider nature to care so fucking much to the point that it eats them from the inside. are you listenin to me!!!! #gets on my knees & sobs. he had to. please #COUGHS. ANYWAY #for some reason i had the need to add some sorta shitty tan to his hands. stop wearing fingerless gloves motherfucker #you can barely see it 💥 but yeah it's there #also idk where i wanna put his scars so thats gonna be inconsistent forever i reckon

[captainswan618]

the way I fully screamed out loud like ten times in a row when I saw her 😭😭😭

like I knew she would be in the episode but I was NOT expecting her to be in the preview image and her beauty took me out of commission skshdbfskdhgf

(also please no spoilers for the episode, basically the only thing I know is that she, Ten, and Nine are in it)

#doctor who #rose tyler #MY FUCKING BELOVED #doctor who spoilers #? I guess #I'm tagging that so inconsistently idk #captainswan618 talks too much

[wonder-worker]

I've been thinking about the tragedy of Elizabeth Woodville living to see the death of her family name.

I don't mean her family with her husband, which lived on through her daughter and grandson. I mean her own.

Her sisters died, one by one, many of them after 1485. When Elizabeth died, only Katherine was left, and she would die before the turn of the century as well.

All her brothers died, too. Lewis died in childhood. John was executed. Anthony was murdered. Lionel died suddenly in the peak of Richard's reign, unable to see his niece become queen. Edward perished at war. Richard died in grieving peace. For all the violence and judgement the family endured, it was "an accident of biology" that ended their line: none of the brothers left heirs, and the Woodville name was extinguished. We know the family was aware of this. We know they mourned it, too:

“Buy a bell to be a tenor at Grafton to the bells now there, for a remembrance of the last of my blood.”

Elizabeth lived through the deposition and death of her young sons, and lived to see the end of her own family name. It must have been such a haunting loss, on both sides.

#(the quote is by Richard Woodville in his deathbed will; he was the last of the Woodville brothers to die) #elizabeth woodville #woodvilles #my post #to be clear I am not arguing that the death of an English gentry family name is some kind of giant tragedy (it absolutely the fuck is not) #I'm trying to put it into perspective with regards to what Elizabeth may have felt because we know her family DID feel this way #writing this kinda reminded me of how I am just not fond at all about the way Elizabeth's experiences in 1483-85 are written about #and the way lots so many of the unprecedentedly horrifying aspects are overlooked or treated so casually: #the seizure and murder of two MINOR sons and the illegal execution of another; #her sheer vulnerability in every way compared to all her queenly predecessors; how she was harassed by 'dire threats' for months; #how she had 5 very young daughters with her to look after at the time (Bridget and Katherine were literally 3 and 4 years old); #how unprecedented Richard's treatment of her was: EW was the first queen of england to be officially declared an adulteress; #and the first and ONLY queen to be officially accused of witchcraft #(Joan of Navarre was accused of her treason; she was never explicitly accused of witchcraft on an official level like EW was) #the first crowned queen of england to have her marriage annulled; and the first queen to have her children officially bastardized #what former queens endured through rumors* were turned into horrifying realities for her. #(I'm not trying to downplay the nightmare of that but this was fundamentally on a different level altogether) #nor did Elizabeth get a trial or appeal to the church. like I cannot emphasize this enough: this was not normal for queens #and not normal for depositions. ultimately what Richard did *was* unprecedented #and of course let's not forget that Elizabeth had literally just been unexpectedly widowed like 20 days before everything happened #I really don't feel like any of this is emphasized as much as it should be? #apart from the horrifying death of her sons - but most modern books never call it murder they just write that they 'disappeared' #and emphasize that ACTUALLY we don't know what happened to them (this includes Arlene Okerlund) #rather than allowing her to have that grief (at the very least) #more time is spent dealing with accusations that she was a heartless bitch or inconsistent intriguer for making a deal with Richard instead #it also feels like a waste because there's a lot that can be analyzed about queenship and R3's usurpation if this is ever explored properly #anyway - it's kinda sad that even after Henry won and her daughter became queen EW didn't really get a break #her family kept dying one by one and the Woodville name was extinguished. and she lived to see it #it's kinda heartbreaking - it was such a dramatic rise and such a slow haunting fall #makes for a great story tho

[hanjisungz]

some of my favorite chan rooms for @chrisbangs  happy birthday ghouls ♡

#stray kids #chan #skz #m.gif #m.bc #stray kids gifs #HAPPY BIRTHDAY GHOULS ILY SOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH #have a wonderful day bb <3333333 #ghouls 🖤 #PLS JUST DONT PAY ATTENTION TO THE INCONSISTENT COLORING I FUCKING HATE COLORING VLIVES </3 #also i'm not good at heartfelt messages just know i fucking love u ghouls ur the best 3racha bff i could ask for #ilysm and missed u so much and i'm so so grateful to be existing at the same time as u <333333333

[lord-ofbears]

I think I finished all of both highschool and college since buying these models and I'm only now getting some of them near completion but. Pathfinder squad wip pictures.

#tau empire #tau #40k #none of these are 100% done like i need to color the bases and I'm trying to not let myself be too picky #like if i can be fine with one long enough to clear coat it I'll be able to stop fucking with it #backstory for these guys is that they're the condensed leftovers of other groups that were too decimated to continue functioning #so they all get folded into this army and I have a fun excuse for why the colors are inconsistent. they're from all over the empire #will paints